Numbers Ascending

by Rebecca Rode

  It was strange being here again. I felt like a year had passed rather than a single day. Tiny green lights illuminated our route in a long, straight line. Other than that, the hallways were as dark as they were bright during the day. I kept tugging my uniform down, hoping we looked like kitchen workers returning to the dorms.

  We reached the locked wing sooner than I’d expected.

  “I don’t like this,” Kole murmured, fingering his stunner. “Someone should have stopped us by now.”

  “I’m sure they’re all behind that door, plotting the end of the world.” Millian turned and looked around. “My contact was supposed to wait here and get us in.”

  I stiffened. Kole groaned. “Let me guess. Zenye approached you and offered her services.”

  Millian’s eyes widened in shock.

  “That explains why they let us get this far,” Kole said bitterly. “I bet she’s turning us over to Virgil right now.”

  “Not true,” Zenye’s voice said in my mind.

  Now it was my turn to groan. Virgil’s internal speaker again. Millian practically leaped out of her shoes while Kole slid into fighting stance. They’d obviously heard it too.

  Quick footsteps surrounded us, and figures appeared in the darkness. At least ten guards approached, each with a sleek stunner pointed at us. For the second time since I’d left Neuromen, there was nowhere to run. I lifted my hands in surrender. Millian scowled and did the same. For a second I thought Kole meant to fight them, but he finally lifted his arms. He flinched as a guard slid the stunner from his pocket.

  We’d already lost.

  Thirty

  Kole

  “How long have you been working for Virgil?” Legacy asked the air, somehow looking calm. My every muscle was taut. I was ready to run, though we weren’t likely to get far.

  Zenye laughed disturbingly loud. “Longer than most people here, considering he’s my dad and all.”

  The revelation felt like a smack upside the head. No wonder she had visitors and a private office. What an idiot I was. It should have occurred to me long before now. “You’re a cheat, Zenye.”

  “Dear Kole. Wish I could say you look well.”

  “No thanks to you.”

  A slow laugh. “Just so we’re clear, I didn’t turn you in. You did that to yourselves. My father will send for you when he’s ready. Thanks, Millian cutie, for the help.”

  Legacy’s roommate growled as three guards separated her from us, leading her away. She sent a worried look over her shoulder before disappearing around a corner.

  “Where are you taking her?” Legacy demanded, her voice wavering for the first time. Zenye didn’t reply.

  A hand yanked my shoulder backward and shoved me back the way we’d come. I was grateful to see Legacy being pushed along next to me. At least they were keeping us together.

  We reached a lift I’d missed before, all nine of us crowding in. I’d imagined some dark basement dungeon, but the lift took us upward. When the doors opened, the guards pushed us down a long hallway. I glanced inside the only one with an open door. An office. This was a section I’d never entered before. Legacy remained close by my side, tense as a cat ready to pounce.

  They tossed us into the last room and slammed the door. A reinforced door, no windows. The only light came from the tiny crack beneath the door. There would be no grand escape this time.

  “I don’t suppose playing dead will work here either,” Legacy muttered.

  “Likely not.” I didn’t tell her the thought that lingered and refused to flee—that neither of us was likely to leave here unscathed. Virgil wouldn’t appreciate the fact that his update hadn’t worked on her, and I doubted I’d be leaving at all given Dane’s creepy warning about my fate. Some kind of torturous execution?

  I had a feeling Zenye was all too eager for the job.

  Legacy plopped onto the ground, leaned against the wall, and sighed. “This didn’t go according to plan.”

  “Don’t blame Millian for trusting Zenye. She can be very persuasive.”

  Legacy turned a flat stare upon me. “Like that day in the garden.”

  I threw my hands up in surrender. “We don’t have to discuss this every four hours. I have no interest in her whatsoever. If negative interest were a thing, that would definitely be the case here.”

  “I know. I’m just teasing. It helps to keep my mind off things.”

  Like the fact that her father lay dying and her driver wasn’t far behind. “I get that.”

  “You mentioned losing someone. Who was it?”

  I joined her on the floor. Cold seeped through the thin layer of tile. No wonder she’d wrapped her arms around herself.

  Hesitating, I hooked my arm carefully around her and applied pressure. She moved closer and leaned her head against my chest. I had to force my muscles to relax and not tense up. Heat shot up and down every cell where she touched.

  I finally spoke. “If I answer that question, you need to answer one in return.”

  “Mmm. Fair trade.”

  A deep breath. “It was my mom. But she was already sick. She contracted DNR-6 about three months ago.”

  She flinched, speaking in a tiny voice. “Your uncle killed her because you helped me?”

  My throat felt like there was a stone lodged in it. It took a monumental effort to swallow. “It was my choice. You don’t get to feel guilty about that.” My decision was a burden I was doomed to carry the rest of my life, however long that may be. Mom may have approved, but that didn’t lessen the pain.

  “Yet you’re here, helping me again. Why is that?” She pulled back to face me. “I don’t understand. You were so . . . Firebrand before. You said the Rating system was inevitable.”

  I let myself relax, grateful for the change of subject. “Your grandmother reminds me a lot of you. I think she got us 80 percent of the way there, but that last 20 percent was a painful oversight.” I softened the words with a smile I wasn’t certain she could see. “I don’t know if bringing back the Rating system would solve our problems, but something needs to change.”

  “What needs to change, in your opinion? I’d really like to know.”

  I thought of Mom working long hours into the night with no alternative. All the evenings I’d scrounged for dinner in empty cupboards. The mounting hospital bills that, assuming I got out of here alive, would loom over my head even with Mom gone. The run-down shacks lining the Shadows’ darkened streets every night. Children who went to school hungry and returned famished.

  “Someday I’ll bring you home with me,” I told her, “and you’ll see the answer with your own eyes.”

  “I would love that.” She sounded genuine. Surprisingly, I liked the idea too.

  “Your turn,” I said. “Your mom’s accident seemed like an obsession there for a while. Why?”

  She let my arm drop and pulled her knees in against her chest again. “Of course you’d ask that question.”

  “I can be direct too.”

  She was quiet for a long time. I fell silent as well, examining her while she gathered her thoughts. If you dropped her celebrity status, Legacy was still an uncommonly pretty girl. Her eyes were wide and intense, like a bonfire, and framed with long, dark lashes. Her hair hung long and thick, with a slight wave that made her seem effortless.

  That was a good word for her, I decided. Effortless.

  “I thought it was about my mom at first,” Legacy admitted. “Everyone said such nasty things when she died. Called her stupid, declared women weren’t fit to be heads of research at such a prestigious lab. Some woman-hater club even threatened Virgil, saying if he didn’t reassign his women scientists, they would blow up his bridge just like she blew up the lab wing.”

  I blinked in surprise. “I didn’t hear about any of this.”

  Her grin faded. “Yeah. Most people didn’t. Mom was the smartest person I know. She didn’t make big mistakes like that, and I wanted to prove it. I also convinced myself that finding evidence of
murder would take away the dark spot on our family. I figured that would help Dad in the long run.”

  “You gave up an easy position at the Block to help your family. I think that’s a noble decision.” Far nobler than being forced to come by a bitter uncle. “Look, I’m sorry for all those accusations I made. I was pretty thoughtless. You didn’t deserve that.”

  She played with a lock of hair cascading down her chest. “I didn’t. But whatever one person says, more people are thinking. I’ve gotten used to people jumping to the worst possible conclusion.”

  “That doesn’t excuse their behavior.”

  Legacy turned to look at me. Really look. It sent a jolt of wakefulness into my otherwise sleep-deprived brain. “It doesn’t, but I can’t say I’m entirely innocent myself. I said some pretty nasty things back to you.”

  I smiled at that. Every accusing word I’d flung at her, she’d shot right back at me. It was what first drew me to her. “True.”

  “But anyway, I convinced myself I was here for everyone else. My mom, Dad, even Alex. With me out of the way, Alex could focus on preparing for his future role. I had no idea his idea of the future was the next week.”

  I took her hand, curling it inside mine. “You couldn’t have known.”

  “I should have. That tells you how broken my family is right now.”

  If her family was fractured, mine was shattered. It had always been that way. We’d never discussed anything that mattered when both my parents were alive.

  A realization made me grind my teeth. My childhood was imperfect, but I couldn’t blame the entirety of it on the Hawkings. A nicer house and better job for Mom would have been good, but it wouldn’t have changed the things that truly mattered.

  She placed her other hand on top of mine, her expression tender. “I keep bringing up my mom when your loss is so new. I’m sorry.”

  “No, it’s good.” My voice was strained, but I meant it. “I think it helps to talk about her.”

  “I’d love to hear more.”

  So I told Legacy about my earliest memories of her, how she’d been so carefree about life and head over heels for my father. Her rounded stomach one year as she excitedly told me her dreams about what we’d do when my brother arrived. Her broken sobs when the baby arrived early and stillborn. I still didn’t know what they did with the little body. We couldn’t afford the cremation fees back then any more than we could now.

  Than I could now. Mom lay under a sheet at the hospital, waiting for me to make the arrangements, and I was stuck in an abandoned office waiting for Virgil to decide my fate. The hospital physicians wouldn’t even know what had happened.

  “I can see how much you love her,” Legacy said softly. “I’m sure she saw it too.”

  “It wasn’t enough to save her.”

  She pushed off the wall and crawled over to kneel right in front of me, forcing me to look at her. “All the love in the world won’t save those we love from harm, Kole. Love doesn’t take away choices. It was never meant to.”

  I swallowed, unable to tear my eyes from hers. They were far more intense than a bonfire now. More like a sky-wide lightning storm connecting us in a sudden strike of heat.

  I lifted a hesitant hand to her cheek. She accepted the touch, her eyes half closing. I stroked her cheek with one thumb, admiring how soft her skin felt. So perfect.

  Then she was on my lap, both slender legs tucked to one side. She cupped my face in her hands, then brushed my hair back. “A Firebrand who loves,” she muttered with a grin.

  “No stranger than a Hawking who cares.”

  I wasn’t sure who closed the distance first, but a second later, our lips touched. Her mouth grew more insistent, more persuasive with every second. Then her fingers tangled in my hair, my neck, my shirt collar. It made me crazy. I tried to remind myself where we were and what was happening downstairs, but it was a hazy memory when compared with this girl who was so beautifully, sharply real.

  My lips finally slowed, hesitated, and drew away in painful reluctance. I could have kissed Legacy all day and into the night.

  She groaned her displeasure.

  “I know, but Virgil will send for you soon. He won’t rest until he’s cracked the mystery of Legacy Hawking.”

  “Mmm,” she said, her lips still intoxicatingly close. “I like being a mystery.”

  I mentally grabbed hold of my brain and forced it to focus on something other than Legacy’s mouth. “Okay. Let’s look at the facts. Virgil won’t come himself; he’ll send guards. They may have stunners, but some of those guys were Firebrands. They won’t have much training in weapons or hand-to-hand combat. Maybe we can jump them when the door opens.”

  “Two against seven?” Legacy asked doubtfully.

  True. “I guess you could always challenge them to a race.”

  Footsteps sounded outside the door.

  Legacy’s smile fled as she rose to her feet. I followed.

  A second later, the lock clicked and no less than twelve guards surrounded us, stunners aimed at my face. My eyes flicked from one guard to another, but taking down even one would mean getting myself stunned. Wherever they meant to take us, I had to remain conscious for Legacy’s sake.

  “Let’s go,” one of them said and pushed us both roughly toward the door.

  Thirty-One

  Legacy

  Virgil sat behind the same ugly desk I remembered from last time. But the fire extinguisher was missing, and a giant board now covered the broken window. It gave me a giddy sense of satisfaction.

  “Thanks for returning of your own accord,” he said. “The Firebrand leader was frantic at your escape. Now that you’ve been recaptured, he can return to his bed in peace. I plan to retire shortly as well.”

  “Why wait?” I snapped. “You’ve already won. The update is out. People are falling ill. The Firebrands have seized control, and my stupid brother is in charge. There’s nothing more you can possibly want.”

  “If there’s one consistency about technology, it’s that issues arise no matter how much testing you’ve conducted. You, Miss Hawking, are an issue.”

  “Because I’m not sick.”

  He cocked his head. “Indeed. I assume you know why that is.”

  I said nothing.

  He waved a dismissive hand. “We’ll worry about that momentarily. I was just about to preview the broadcast your brother recorded last night. He ordered that it go out this morning. Care to join me?”

  “I’d rather stare at a wall,” I muttered, eyeing the creepy statue in the center of the room.

  “Excellent. Guards, chairs for our guests. Then keep watch in the hallway. Don’t let anyone come near my door, no matter who they are. Matheson, you may stay.”

  My guard—Matheson, I guessed—slammed me into the seat a little too hard. I grimaced, but the pain was nothing compared to the turmoil I felt inside. I knew exactly what Alex planned to announce, and I was powerless to stop it.

  Virgil settled into the blue chair next to Kole. He gestured to the blank wall behind his desk, which I now saw was covered with a thin screen. It flashed on to reveal my brother’s face. He looked tired but victorious, eyes slightly glazed. A script, then. I wondered whether he’d been the one to write this speech at all.

  “This is Alexandrite Hawking, the oldest child of His Honorable Hawking. I’m saddened to inform you that a new strain of DNR-6 has infected many of our citizens overnight. Unfortunately, my father is one of them. It’s with a deep solemnity and sorrow that I assume my father’s responsibilities until he returns, if that joyous day ever comes. Until then, I’m determined to shoulder his burden as a valiant protector of my people.”

  His people. This was Alex’s speech. I was sure of that now. Nobody else would say such a presumptuous thing to a country that was suffering. And this from a brother who avoided interacting with citizens as a general rule. Home tutors and servants were more his comfort level. It was one of the things that made us different. Was that why Dad ch
ose me for his successor instead? Because I wanted to know more about those we led?

  “In the meantime, if you experience strange symptoms starting with a fever and weakness, please make your way to a nearby hospital immediately. I’ve already asked all qualified medical personnel to report to work early this morning to accommodate you. While we won’t know the extent of this illness for a while, I ask for your patience as we sort out the cause of this strange disease. I’ve also hired new enforcers to help keep the peace.”

  Firebrands. I was sure of it. I looked at Kole, who frowned.

  “These measures will help, but I anticipate they still won’t be enough. Thus I’m declaring an official state of emergency across the country. Continue your work schedules, report to the hospital if you feel sick, and send some healing thoughts skyward for my father. I know I’ll be doing the same for you.” Alex bowed his head, pretending to look emotional. Then the recording ended.

  Virgil applauded. “Brilliant performance. Now for the other.”

  I stared at him. “The other?”

  “The Firebrands’ concession. This one arrived only minutes ago, set to broadcast shortly after your brother’s announcement.”

  Kole cursed under his breath.

  Sure enough, the screen lit up again to show a man with close-cropped graying hair and a chin that looked chiseled from stone. His eyes were even harder. This was a man who’d seen battle and was accustomed to victory.

  Kole’s uncle, the man who had just killed his mother. A chill shot down my arm.

  “I’m Dane Mason, leader of the Firebrands, an activist group that has fought for reform over the past decade. While our vision has clashed with that of His Honorable Hawking in the past, in light of recent events, we hope to find a middle ground beneficial to both parties. I hereby endorse Hawking’s son, Alex, and pledge our hands to the cause of saving lives. We look forward to working with the new Honorable Hawking and are pleased to serve. Thank you.”